The Name On the Door
by Mary Jane Parker
Summary: For a week, Joan has a little helper in the new office. "You're going to do far more than answer phones."


Joan was pretty. Not prettier than Mommy, but pretty just the same. She was nice though. When Daddy had forgotten to pack her crayons that morning Joan pulled some out of her bottomless desk drawers. Sally said thank you before going back into the space her father had cleared just for her.

"She makes me nervous," Pete said in what was supposed to be a whisper. In their new 'office' everyone could hear everyone else. "She's just… _there_. Children don't belong in an office."

"First of all, she's not doing a thing to you. She's minding her own business, as you should be. Don't you have a lunch with the Deere men?" Joan placed a handful of phone messages down on his desk. "Second, I'd advise you not let Mr. Draper hear you talking about his daughter, hmm? She's only going to be here until Friday."

Sally noticed that Joan knew ieverything/i about everyone at her father's job, even if they didn't know it about themselves. No one had told her that Friday was her last day coming to work with Daddy.

"I think it's kinda neat." Harry was grinning and leaning on Pete's desk. Apparently very little work was actually getting done. "She made me a Tom Collins yesterday and it was igood/i."

Sally beamed, but didn't say anything. That would have been eavesdropping.

Daddy was busy most of the time but they had lunch together every day. Other than that Sally spent most of her time sitting in her little corner and occasionally wandering over to the big desk in the front of the room. Joan sat there.

"Did you need a pencil, sweetheart?"

Shaking her head, Sally smiled hopefully at Joan. "I finished my puzzle book. Can I help you with things?"

"Well," Joan answered after a moment's pause. "You did do such a good job helping me with that Christmas tree the other day, I suppose I could find a few things for you to do."

Joan set her up in front of a spare typewriter (they didn't have 'a girl' yet, something Sally often heard them talking about) and –between brief breaks for answering the phone— explained that they needed copies of contracts typed over so they would have copies for all parties involved. They barely had an office, much less a mimeograph, she'd explained with a laugh. Sally had laughed back, in the way that children did when they wanted to play adult. She was just happy to have Joan pay attention to her. Joan _liked_ her.

She went about the copying carefully and quietly. Her fingers were nowhere as fast as Joan's, but she was doing her best. Miss. Farrell always said that was all that mattered.

Sometimes when Joan's phone rang, Sally would pretend that she had one on her desk as well. "Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce," she would pretend to answer, putting an emphasis on her last name. Daddy kept saying that when they finally found a building, their name would be on the wall in big letters.

About thirty minutes in Sally looked up to see Joan watching her. "How're you doing there?"

"Good," Sally said with a nod. She didn't take her eyes from the keys, knowing that if she did she would mess up the entire page. "It's fun!"

"Do you want your—" Joan stopped mid-sentence, standing suddenly when Roger Sterling walked back into the office from an extended client lunch. Sally watched as her red lips parted in a welcoming smile. She reached out and took his jacket and hat before disappearing to hang it in the closet.

"Joanie showing you the ropes?" he asked Sally.

Sally nodded. "Yep, she's showing me everything."

Roger smirked and pulled one of her pigtails before he moved on. "Not _everything_." Sally didn't know exactly what that meant and when Joan came back she didn't bother asking. It seemed like the kind of question she would get in trouble for.

Joan was there every time she looked over and there was always a kind smile on her lips. At nine years old it never really occurred to Sally that Joan was perhaps only being nice because she was her boss' daughter. It didn't matter _why_ to Sally, she was perfectly happy to accept it as it was. It was nice, a pretty, older woman who would spend time with her. Talk to her. Show her how to do things. Acted as if she _liked_ having her around.

When the typewriter ribbon jammed, Joan didn't yell or complain. Instead she bent over Sally's desk and fixed it without much of a fuss. "Thank you, Miss. Holloway."

"Are you looking forward to Friday?" Joan asked her, sitting back down in her chair. She smoothed down the nonexistent wrinkles in her clinging wool skirt. "I hear your brother's coming back from his boy scout trip, and your nanny's coming back, right?"

She only answered with a shrug at first. "I guess… Bobby's boring and when Carla's not there, I'm the only girl, because my mother went on a trip with the baby," she said softly. "But, Daddy let's us stay up until eight thirty and watch _Petticoat Junction_."

"You prefer coming into work with your father?

"There's a lot to do here. I like it. And, see!" Sally pulled the last paper out of the typewriter and placed it on top of the stack she'd already typed. "I finished one!"

Joan raised an eyebrow. "Excellent. I may leave here on _time_ today."

There were small tasks for Sally to work through until five o'clock when her father stepped out of the bedroom that served as the partners' private office. Suddenly Joan was standing up and fetching her coat, along with Daddy's. She even helped her slip it on over her arms. She made sure her gloves were on, and that her scarf was tucked down underneath her jacket, and even adjusted the winter hat over her curls. It was exactly the way her mother would have done it.

"Am I coming back to help Miss. Holloway again tomorrow, Daddy?"

"She wasn't bothering you, was she?" Don turned to Joan as she handed him his briefcase and hat. "I'm sorry about this. Our sitter's brother passed away suddenly and with—"

"You don't have to worry. Sally's been a joy all week, and I won't be the only one sad to see her go. Mr. Crane is already mourning the loss of his personal bartender." When Joan bent over to smooth down Sally's curls once more the girl couldn't help smiling again.

"I'm glad she's been behaving," he said before a shout from Pryce called him away just for a moment.

Sally stood with Joan, who crouched down again. Her face was inches from Sally's as she started to quickly do up the buttons on her jacket. "Thank you for letting me help. I really like your job."

"Don't thank me, Sally." Joan shook her head and her hands paused on the last button. Her smile held a tinge of sadness as she looked at the little girl, but it was nothing a child was going to notice and that was the only reason Joan would allow it to appear. "You're going to do _far_ more than answer phones and play mimeograph. Your name is on the door—don't forget that. Do you promise?"

"I promise," she said.

"Good girl." Joan tucked a few blond strands behind Sally's ear and dusted off her jacket before standing back up. She ran her hands over her hips just once to make sure her dress was in order. "Now let's see what we can do about rounding up your father. Young ladies need their dinners, even if they are staying up for _Petticoat Junction_."


End file.
